Brunettes and a Necklace
by SYuuri
Summary: What had started out as an unconscious gesture had transformed into an addictive habit. Not that he had any complaints. Never. xX Oneshot Xx S/J


**Brunettes and a Necklace**

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><p><strong>Some of the Jammers and I have decided that the necklace is a gift from Sam. She's playing with it too much for it not to; that and the fact that she's fingering it while listening to that smexy song (and the look!). So. Let's pretend for the sake of this story, that <strong>_**Sam**_** gave it to her. Oh, and if you noticed, one of the charms is a peace sign. Enough babbling, on to the story!**

**FLUFF ALERT. You have been warned. This is a bit too fluffy for my standard, actually. Not sure where it came from, but I hope you enjoy.**

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><p>He loved watching her fiddle with the necklace.<p>

It had been less than 48 hours and she hadn't taken it off yet. He'd even caught it around her neck underneath the thick layers of the uniforms, sparkling and shimmering before she zipped her coat all the way up. The knowledge that she kept it close to her, kept _him_ near, warmed him inside out.

_And isn't that what is it about?_ He thought when Jules absent-mindedly fingered the peace sign pendant. It's about keeping the peace so everybody could go home safely to their loved ones; to be a constant reminder that both of them have to survive yet another grueling day just so they could go back to each other.

He's always going to be there, waiting. Hopefully, she's thinking the same thing.

Noticing that her fingers never wandered far from the jewelry however, filled his heart with hope.

Shelving the cliché factor aside, Sam would have gladly gotten her a heart pendant if not for the fact that she wouldn't have worn something so obvious. Many _single_ girls around the world wore heart pendants because they looked cute, adorable and to nourish their hopeless romantic side.

Of course, as 'single' as she was, Jules wasn't exactly the type of girl who'd appreciate something cute and adorable.

_Not exactly a hopeless romantic either,_ he grinned inwardly. It amused him so much for her to flush crimson to the roots of her hair, when _he_ was being the hopeless romantic.

She delicately fingered the necklace when they're watching a movie, and when she's waiting for her turn to use the power outlet in his bathroom. She even played with it while waiting for Raf to join them for the morning brief, fiddling with the token of his feelings for her for everybody to see.

What had started out as an unconscious gesture had transformed into an addictive habit. Not that he had any complaints. Never.

Maybe she _was_ a hopeless romantic, after all.

Jules was nestled underneath the covers, a book Spike had lent her sitting on her lap. The necklace glimmered even in the dimmed light, its pendant resting lightly against the hollow of her throat. Watching her in _his_ place, sleeping in _his_ bed, looking like she had made herself at home right where _he_ wanted her to be… it was almost too much for him.

"That blonde was really into you, Sam. The leggy one, remember her?" Jules remarked calmly, catching him off guard. Her eyes were focused on the book in front of her, but a smile was playing on the corner of her lips. "She totally was."

Sam hung his head, groaning at the very mention of their evening out. Metro was a nice place; a bit too posh for his liking, but a pleasant change from their usual hangout place nonetheless. Still, he could have done without having a handful of women trying to hit on him. It had been that much worse because Jules was there, and there had been nothing he could have done without drawing unwanted attention from Spike and their latest teammate, who'd joined them after his gig was over. Jules, if anything, had looked amused more than upset. The mischievous, I-know-everything glint in Nat's equally blue eyes hadn't gone unnoticed either. Talking about his sister, he still needed to talk to her about _Spike_. Whatever she was thinki-

"And the second blonde latching herself onto your arms, could she get even more obvious?" Jules went on, her nose crunching up in distaste and Sam once again put the subject of Nat and Spike on the backburner. "I thought we would have to get a crowbar to get her off of you. Not even her fake British accent could have saved her from embarrassing herself."

Sam glanced back at her. "Do I detect a pinch of jealousy here?"

He had to bite back a smile when she scowled. It had been uncomfortable, true, but he'd be lying if he said the attention hadn't inflated his male ego. Anyway, it's not like he hadn't caught a guy or two eying his girl.

Maybe they should just stick to The Goose in the future.

"It would be good for you, going out without having to worry about being busted by your co-workers," she leaned her head back against the headboard, talking to no one in particular. "You could show them off too. I trust you'll find someone with a brain, but still pretty nonetheless. Long, bouncing blonde hair, a pair of legs that seem to go on forever under the mini skirts…"

Oh yes, Jules Callaghan was definitely jealous.

Sam smirked, almost leered. "What, you want to date them? Didn't have the slightest idea that you swing that way."

"Not funny." Jules made a face and picked up her book once more, hiding her face behind The Catcher in the Rye.

Laughing, Sam closed his closet and made his way to his side of bed – the left hand side. It was a habit he had picked up shortly after Jules was shot to spare her healing wound. Even when they're no longer together, the simple act had rooted deeply in him he would do it based on instinct. Grabbing her shoulders, he gently turned her until she was lying on her side, facing him. Her lower lip jutted out in a vicious pout. Any other day, he would have played her game some more, but the residual loving mood from the Valentine's Day still lingered inside him.

"Well, Jules, unfortunately for them, I'm more into dark-haired women," he ran his fingers through her locks. It wasn't difficult to be an affectionate_ hopeless romantic_ whenever Jules was concerned. "I especially have a thing for brunettes."

Jules snorted, arms crossing over her chest; book abandoned. "Dark hair, dark eyes..." he pressed a kiss on each of her eyelids that closed instantly at the touch of his lips. Sam pecked the tip of her nose playfully and pulled her unyielding body into the circle of his arms. "Petite, even when she has on a four inch heels."

"Do you have a death wish, Sam?"

He put a finger over her lips to silent her protest. "And when she's a sexy sniper chick who for some reasons is obsessed with protein smoothies, that's a bonus."

"Jerk." Jules swatted his chest, her resolve crumbling and she broke into peals of laughter. When the fiddling returned, Sam couldn't help but grinning even wider.

Jules frowned, pulling back a little. "O-_kay_, you're starting to scare me."

"I'm happy, Jules, that's all." There wasn't a more honest answer than that.

"Me too."

The look they shared was gentle. He could scarcely believe that she was here, with him. And they were together (even if it was in the not so traditional way). All he had to do was to reach out his hand and he could touch her, feeling the velvet and warmth of her skin. He had always known that she was the one, as corny as that might sound. Their history together was as long as his arm. Wanting to kill each other, being in love, not being in love, being with other people who they knew would never compare…at the end of the day, they'd always find their way back to each other.

"I gather you like the necklace."

She leaned down, studying the pendants closely, stroking it with care. "It's beautiful, subtle and meaningful. It's very thoughtful of you, Sam."

"Any time."

"This doesn't mean that I'm chained to your side 24/7, though." Jules muttered, effectively breaking the tender atmosphere that had settled over them like an old baby blanket.

Sam snorted; leave it to Jules to come up with something quirky in the least appropriate moment. "It's a godamned necklace, Jules, not a collar."

"It's a godamned joke, Sam, take a deep breath," she fired back, elbowing him. "What inspired you though?"

Sam swallowed, recalling his latest shopping trip. He must have spent a good hour wandering about the ring section, silently _and_ enthusiastically wondering what kind of ring would bring Jules Callaghan to tears. More simple and lovely than flashy and gaudy was his best bet. His pondering ended when the saleslady came to him, nicely asking what kind of _engagement ring_ he was looking for. It was like a bucket of ice water and he finally realized that there's no way he could give Jules a ring.

_What the hell he was thinking? _

_You weren't, that's what._

He didn't want to scare her off, but more importantly, he didn't want to give her an empty promise when he didn't even know what his next move was going to be; what to do with his five-year plan.

And it's not like he knew for certain that Jules wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

When he answered, he said none of it. "Remember when we're watching that Titanic rerun? I was hoping you'd strike a pose, _only_ with the neckla-"

"Oh please, your skill at art is limited to drawing some stick figures on the debriefing documents!" Jules giggled.

Sam released a deep breath. "You should check out my masterpiece on the shower tile in the guys' locker room. Our initials in cursive letters inside a large, fluffy heart."

She buried herself deeper in her arms, rubbing her face against his chest. "I wouldn't have been surprised if you somehow got me a heart-shaped locket with your picture in it though, maybe with some heart-felt inscription in the back?"

Her smirk was teasing, but he held her gaze firmly. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If it's what your heart desires, you'll get it next year."

Her answering expression was a nervous one. He was half-expecting her to shy away and change the subject as she normally did when they reach touchy subjects, but her slender fingers grazed his cheek instead. She looked skeptical, curious and -perhaps he was reading too much into this- hopeful. "Next year?"

Their eyes locked, doe with blue, and he sensed the mood had shifted, the once-playful tone evaporating. "I'm game if you are."

Eternity seemed to go by before her sweet lips broke into a gentle smile.

"There's no place I'd rather be."

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><p><strong>The downside of writing one-shots is that you don't know if the readers actually stick around to read till the end (therefore, the stats doesn't really work). So, please let me know what you think :)<strong>


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